


For Now, These Hot Days, Is The Mad Blood Stirring

by boltschick2612



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Kissing in the Rain, M/M, Off-Season, Phoenix Coyotes, Tampa Bay Lightning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-26
Updated: 2013-01-26
Packaged: 2017-11-27 00:48:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/656164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boltschick2612/pseuds/boltschick2612
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mike doesn't miss Florida's mid-afternoon thunderstorms. Scratch that, he misses everything about Florida.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Now, These Hot Days, Is The Mad Blood Stirring

**Author's Note:**

> Title is a line for William Shakespeare's "Romeo and Juilet". Thanks and enjoy!

They had been outside, attempting to enjoy the hot Florida summer afternoon, when the rain started to fall. Mike and Ryan let a few drops cascade down on them, cooling their heated skin before crawling out of their loungers to go inside. Mike was the first to reach for the wrought iron door handle of the French doors, only to find that it wouldn't turn. Locked. He shot Ryan a panicked look, and he in turn just shrugged his shoulders and smirked. No matter how long it had been, that smirk got to Mike, every time. He stood in the backyard of Ryan's Tampa home, the rain soaking through this clothes and matting his normally full, curly hair to his head. The muggy heat permeated through every  pore.  One thing he could honestly say he didn't miss about Florida was the mid afternoon summer thunderstorms and how they happened everyday, almost like clockwork.

He wrapped his arms around Ryan's waist, pulling him closer and planting his nose in Ryan's wet curls. He breathed in, smelling the mixture of shampoo and rain. He pulled away to press a kiss to Ryan's lips, his hands traveling over the wet cloth of his shirt. Mike pulled away and inhaled again, the smell of freshly cut grass filling his nose. As he pressed another kiss to Ryan's lips in the pouring rain, Mike decided that maybe he did miss the Florida storms afterall.

He missed everything.

The rain starts to pound on their skin, and Ryan pulls Mike closer, returning Mike's tender kiss with one filled with longing. Ryan's fingers ghost under Mike's shirt and along his slick skin, trailing over the muscles of his stomach and chest before reaching for the hem and lifting it up over his head. The shirt is discarded in the grass with a wet thud, and Ryan's lips are soon plotting the same trail that his fingers did just seconds before. His knees come to rest in the wet grass, and he feels Mike's fingers play into his wet, matted curls. A salty mixture of sweat and rain dance across Ryan's tongue as teeth nip at the sensitive skin above the waistband of Mike's pants. He slides the button from it's spot and lowers the zipper, all the while looking up at Mike, keeping his eyes trained on him, not wanting to lose sight of him for one second. 

Ryan slides the wet denim past Mike's hips, and they're discarded next to the shirt. Mike lowers himself to rest on his knees in the grass, he needed to look into Ryan's eyes. Needed to take in the sight of something that he had gone far too long without. Memorized by the dark blue pools of his eyes, Mike lifts Ryan's shirt over his head, all without ever breaking his gaze. He helps Ryan shed himself of the rest of his clothing, nothing left but blades of grass and damp air clinging to bare skin. 

Ryan weaves his fingers into Mike's damp curls and pulls him closer, their lips touching as the rain continued down upon them. He pulls away and sits himself back onto the lush grass, legs stretched out in front of him. He pulls Mike towards him until he is down to his level, Mike's knees bracketing Ryan's hips, their faces hovering inches apart, breathing the same humid air. Mike presses soft lips to Ryan's, then slides his tongue past his teeth. Mike rakes his nails down Ryan's back and a moan escapes him, reverberating against Mike's lips.

Mike's lips start to play across the heavily tattooed skin of Ryan's shoulder as he positions himself upon Ryan, allowing him to slide into him at an almost maddeningly slow pace. Mike fixated his eyes with Ryan's, watching the storm play out in his crystal blue orbs, as turbulent as the storm raging outside. Each slowly paced thrust is met with a loud moan, pushing out of Ryan's mouth and drowning out the songs of the cicadas. As Mike moves up and down on the rigid heat, he leans forward and burrows his face into the crook of Ryan's neck and shoulder, taking comfort in the familiar feeling, the feeling of their bodies seeming to fit together like perfect pieces of the same puzzle.

The feeling of Mike's hot breath against his skin sends Ryan over the edge, and the heat spreads through his body as he comes undone, panting and gasping into Mike's eagerly listening ear. Mike holds him as he shudders through the wave of sensation, finally pulling away after Ryan's breathing had slowed. Mike pushes the wet strands of hair from his eyes, his hair had grown far too long since the last time they had seen each other.

Mike falls to the grass, laying face up and relishing the feeling of the rain falling on his skin. His eyes slid closed, and he feels Ryan's lips meet his own. He feels the lips trail down his chest, tongue darting in and out against his skin. The kisses trail lower and lower until they're at his inner thighs, and it's teeth he feels next, gently biting. Ryan slides his mouth down around Mike, and he bucks his hips up in response. The wet heat of Ryan's mouth around Mike feels like the humid air, and he lets out a series of moans and unintelligible words. He reaches down and grasps at Ryan's hair, curls the color of smoldering embers in a fire. Ryan presses into Mike's hot flesh with the tip of his tongue, drawing lazy circles, and Mike loses it. He bites at his lower lip and throws his head back, slamming his eyes shut as Ryan continues to dance his tongue over Mike's sensitive skin, seeing it through to the very end. 

Ryan moves to lay on the ground, his back coming to rest on the wet grass and they both lay there, side by side, panting and waiting for their world to return to normal. 

Mike finally turns to look at Ryan, who is staring up at the clouds and letting the raindrops fall on his face. "How are we going to get inside, Bugs?"

A raucous course of laughter shakes through Ryan's body, and he looks at Mike, smirk playing across his face.  "The front door was unlocked the whole time." 


End file.
